


The Soul That I Swing (It’s You I Want)

by hlae



Category: Kuroko no Basuke | Kuroko's Basketball
Genre: Demon!AU, M/M, The one in which they're all hunters
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-04-09
Updated: 2013-04-09
Packaged: 2017-12-08 00:59:49
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,322
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/755132
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/hlae/pseuds/hlae
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>“<em>Senpai</em>,” says Kise, his voice low and heady—at the same time, his tawny eyes go half-lidded, and <em>goddammit</em>, Yukio is so, so, screwed.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Soul That I Swing (It’s You I Want)

The demon snarls, mouth frothing with rage; its breath smells like rotting corpses and Yukio wants to gag. It’s drooling on his shirt and distantly, he mourns the loss. It was quite expensive. Or he would, if he wasn’t so busy trying to stay alive.

 

Yukio can feel the acid from the demon’s saliva burning into his skin. His scythe is the only barrier between him and the demon right now, but it’s struggling to get closer to his face in order to bite it off—he can’t hold out much longer.

 

“Damn it,” he swears. The others are busy with their own battles, and the demon has him pinned to the ground—he has no leverage and no help.

 

It had been going so well, too. After months of stealthy reconnaissance, they’d staked out the den of the demon horde that had been devouring citizens. It was supposed to be a simple, disorganized pack of weaker demons but they were clever; they’d hidden their king well. Kaijou’s carefully planned ambush had all gone to dust. They would have been destroyed if it weren’t for the fact that not only did they have surprise on their side, but also that Kise was pushing beyond his limits to keep them alive.

 

“We will devour you all,” hissed the demon—Yukio will never get used to the sound, like gravel and wailing and death.

 

He grins suddenly, baring his bloody teeth. The demon frowns, discomfited.

 

“That’s what you think,” he says; the demon is still nonplussed when its full black eyes go white with shock and it slumps onto him.

 

Yukio shoves the dead thing off of him.

 

“Thanks,” he says to Kobori, whose claymore is glistening with black blood. He nods in return. It seems the battle is over, though not without injuries; Kobori has a deep slash down his back, for one. Yukio can’t see the king around anymore so he assumes it must be dead, though he has the sense that something is weird about this situation, that something is off. It must be a side-effect of the combat, he decides; besides, the ground is littered with demon corpses. They’ll disappear in an hour or so, though—they always do.

 

It’s a full moon tonight; Yukio would say it was foreseen, but they’re hunting demons, not werewolves. The forest is calm now, nearly peaceful. The trees rustle in the breeze, but like before, there are no animal sounds. Beasts have an innate fear of demons and it will take days before the forest is ripe with birdsong once more.

 

Yukio’s sore all over, but he’s glad to see his clan is all right, for the most part. The others are standing next to a large rock and as he and Kobori drift closer, Yukio can see that they’re gathered around Kise, who’s on the ground, clutching his head.

 

Yukio’s heart rate spikes up in concern and he sprints over to see what’s wrong.

 

“I’m okay,” says Kise without looking up. “Just a bit dizzy.”

 

He moans a bit piteously, then looks up. Yukio automatically reaches over to help him up and when Kise spots him he smiles brightly. That odd feeling that Yukio was sensing is immediately back, stronger, more overt than before. He can’t ignore it now, but even as his apprehension increases, he continues to pulls Kise closer.

 

Then Kise’s eyes flash blood-red for a split second, so quick that if Yukio wasn’t a trained hunter, he’d never notice it at all. But he does, and when he sees, he can’t help a minute twitch as a shock of dread skips down his spine.

 

Good thing they have a contingency plan for situations like this. Demonic possession doesn’t happen often with hunter clans, especially not to those with prodigies, but to do so requires an enormous amount of power—this must be the king. They didn’t kill it after all—it really had seemed too easy.  

 

“Let’s go,” says Yukio, and he can tell the others hear the thread of tension in his voice, that they notice, almost immediately, what’s going on. Especially since Kise seems content, nearly happy as they walk away from the site of the battle; it’s ironic, really, that the only time that Kise’s ever subdued is after a fight.

 

“Ah, I must go meet my girlfriend,” says Moriyama, who flounces away. Moriyama hasn’t had a girlfriend in three years.

 

“I have to go...do something important,” adds Hayakawa in a totally transparent move to get away. The others make equally bad excuses to leave and Yukio nearly smacks his palm to his face, why do his friends have no subtlety, _how is this his life_. 

 

Kise doesn’t seem to notice that something’s going on, which is odd because demons generally aren’t stupid. Then Yukio sees Kise lick his lips and eye him in a distinctly predatory way, and what. It thinks they’re... _together_? Then what, the others are leaving to give them alone time?!

 

“ _Senpai_ ,” says Kise, his voice low and heady—at the same time, his tawny eyes go half-lidded, and _goddammit_ , Yukio is so, so, screwed.

 

It’s not like he hasn’t thought about it before (many times, and in great detail if he’s being truthful—he never is), but when death lives on your doorstep and monsters are daily fare, well. He doesn’t let himself hope.

 

But now Kise is stalking towards him, and he swallows, suddenly furious. No matter what he’s been through, what they’ve been through, Kise’s a good kid. He doesn’t deserve this, no matter how much Yukio may want it. Kise carelessly discards his crescent blades as he moves; gritting his teeth, Yukio casually tosses aside his own weapon. It’s useless, now, anyways.

 

“Kise,” he says instead, and stops, because Kise is literally a hair’s breadth away from him and he can barely hold his own, only just remembering to flick his wrist and release the hidden catch. What’s the next part of the plan? He can’t recall. Then it doesn’t matter anymore, because Kise is licking into his mouth, his lips smooth and unyielding, and it just seems so _wrong_ , somehow. It’s only fair, then, that Yukio feels only the slightest bit of trepidation at shoving the knife into Kise’s chest.

 

The demon inside Kise lets out a truly inhuman howl, twisting Kise’s face into a grimace of agony, red bleeding around the yellow irises. He rears back onto his haunches, the knife sticking out of his chest like a pointer and black blood leaking out the wound—Yukio has to fight the urge to be nauseous, has to remind himself that this wasn’t Kise, not really. He raises a hand instead and his clan melts out of the shadows. 

 

“Quickly, quickly,” he chants, but Moriyama and Hayakawa are already working their fastest to draw the devil’s trap. Kobori places iron horseshoes around the wrists and ankles of Kise’s body, driving them into place with the hilt of his sword. Yukio pushes down on Kise’s shoulders and in return, the demon starts spitting black blood at him.

 

“Gross,” he groans, but holds on firmly nonetheless, especially as the demon’s struggles start to get more powerful. Yukio pushes down the panic; the knife will only injure the demon temporarily, and the iron won’t hold forever—if they don’t exorcise it fast enough....well, he really doesn’t want to go down that road.

 

The instant Kobori lifts his head and nods, Nakamura starts reciting the incantation. Yukio has to practically sprawl across Kise’s body; his head is uncomfortably close to Kise’s face and the demon takes the opportunity to whisper, _he doesn’t really want you_ , and Yukio knows. Oh, how he knows.

 

That doesn’t mean it doesn’t hurt.

 

He doesn’t let himself close his eyes, because that would be weakness. He doesn’t even relax when Kise’s head tips backwards and black smoke comes billowing out, only to be sucked downwards into an invisible portal—the demon is screeching all the way and Nakamura has to yell over him, but all Yukio is thinking about is Kise.

 

Finally, Kise takes a deep breath and looks straight at him. It’s not without a bone-deep sense of relief that he notes that Kise’s eyes are back to normal. From beside him, Moriyama sniffs and says, coolly, “it’s him.”

 

“Senpai?” says Kise, confused, but only for a moment—hunters aren’t built the same way normal humans are. They maintain their memories of a possession. Yukio suspects it has to do with those mandatory registration tattoos, but it doesn’t really matter as long as it works.

 

The rest of the team start packing up as soon they realize that Kise is fine. Yukio stays there for a moment longer, the length of his body pressed to Kise’s, and allows himself only the tiniest moment of regret before pushing himself back up.

 

Hayakawa lets out a breath, then oddly, glances quickly at Yukio, only to grimace and flush. Yukio’s confused, but then he sees Moriyama’s knowing gaze, switching between him and Kise, and, crap. If even Hayakawa noticed the look of naked want on his face, there’s no way the rest of the clan doesn’t. Kise _definitely_ knows; he’s not stupid, despite how he may pretend. 

 

“Oh,” says Kise, and then again, “Senpai, I—”

 

“It’s fine,” interrupts Yukio, who caught that look in Kise’s eye, determined like it only ever was when Kise was about to do something _he_ thought was right but usually ended up being stupid or suicidal (usually both) and he suddenly doesn’t want to hear the apologies Kise surely has in mind. He knows it’s not Kise’s fault, and it’s probably weird to kiss a guy you don’t even like, but then again, he doesn’t even know what normal is anymore.   

 

“I’ve got to go,” Yukio says, and stumbles off vaguely in the direction of his house. He doesn’t chance a look back at Kise, at those eyes that are unfathomable beyond a cheerful façade, at his lips, no doubt red and kiss-swollen and _obscene._ The worst part is, it’s not even a shock, realizing what he now knows with a bone-curdling dismay. He’s known all along. It’s just now he has to deal with it.

 

The clan doesn’t meet at his house tonight; Yukio’s grateful that his friends respect his—feelings? privacy?—but then he thinks of Kise, and he only feels hollow.

  
He tries to will his brain to shut down, to go to sleep, but his efforts are in vain. Heaving a breath, he stares up at the bleak ceiling. It’s at times like these, in the cover of darkness, does he allow himself to want someone he can never have, and now, now that the whole clan knows—it goes beyond shame. Yukio isn’t ashamed for wanting Kise—golden boy, everyone’s favourite, top of his class—but he’s ashamed that it’s out, because it’s going to tear the clan apart. They can’t afford that, not when Seirin and Touou keep encroaching on their territory, each with hunter prodigies of their own.

 

“Kise,” he tries, quietly. And again, “Kise.” And then again and again, pausing in between, until it becomes a quiet chant. A mantra.

 

Yukio nearly has a heart attack at the ‘Yeah, senpai?’ that replies to him on one of his many iterations; he is not proud to say he fell off the bed in his panic at seeing Kise climb gracefully through the window.

 

“What are you doing here?” he screeches, face all shades of red, surely. He’s still half-tangled in his sheets. The only light on in his room is the oracle’s globe (they retrieved that from a particularly vicious horde of demons, and man, did that end messily). Kise’s face is shadowed, unreadable in the soft glow.

 

“I just wanted to check on you,” he offers.

 

“Yeah, well, I’m fine. You can go now.”

 

Kise hesitates.

 

“Senpai...you know when the demon possessed me? And it made me, uh, attack you?”

 

Yukio involuntarily lets out a snort at Kise’s choice of words. Everything’s suddenly bitterly funny, and he feels like he’s aged more today than in the past year. Might as well get this over with.

 

“And?”

 

“Well, uh.” Kise’s blushing now, the colour in his cheeks spreading down to his neck, deepened by the globe’s glow. “It only went after you because of what it saw in my mind.”

 

Yukio frowns. He’s confused now.

 

“You think I’m weak,” he says slowly, because it’s the only logical conclusion. Though incongruous, it’s still possible. He ignores the pang in chest.

 

“No, no!” cries Kise immediately. “As in, I think about you. A lot. The things you say, the things you do, and, uh.” He winces.

 

“I fantasize about you a lot.” Kise’s rushing now, his speech nearly slurring in its speed.

 

“Not anything nasty.” Kise coughs a little, and reddens even more. Still, Yukio’s sure it holds no ground against the colour of his own face.

 

“Well, usually. Mostly it’s what you might be like if you loved me like I love you, if you would hold hands with me in the hallways, if I could see your face first thing in the morning when I got up, if we remembered anniversaries and gave each other gifts that weren’t designed to kill supernatural monsters. Things like that.”

 

Yukio’s covered his eyes by this point; Kise is so unbelievably _cheesy_. He can’t help the way it warms his chest, or the emotion that threatens to swell out of him.

 

He blinks and focuses on Kise; Yukio can’t seem to stop smiling.

 

“Yeah,” he says roughly, pulling Kise closer by the knot of his tie. He’s disgusting happy, and so is Kise, by the look on his face. Kise opens his mouth again, probably to release some profuse and needlessly embarrassing endearments.

 

Yukio rolls his eyes and kisses him before he can get the words out.

**Author's Note:**

> Title is from Mikky Ekko's 'I love you (I always have).'


End file.
